


take me home, stranger

by honeyuta



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 02:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16338293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyuta/pseuds/honeyuta
Summary: “Be here at seven o’clock sharp tomorrow.”Johnny stares at the boy in front of him in disbelief. “You want me to go get the groceries for you or something?”Alternatively, Yuta finally accepts Johnny’s request for a date and while Johnny is determined to make it a night to remember, his wallet has other plans.





	take me home, stranger

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [NCTprompts_IV](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/NCTprompts_IV) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Johnny says he will pay for the dinner if Yuta goes out with him. But he doesn't have enough money and they have to pull a dine and dash.
> 
> i've been working on this for a while, and although it isn't my best, it's... cute? i mean, hopefully... appreciate johnyu!!
> 
> either way, excuse any mistakes and enjoy!!

Seo Youngho stares anxiously at the wall clock ticking away peacefully above his boring History of the World teacher’s head.  His teacher’s mouth is moving, as it has been throughout the entire class, but Johnny (his friends call him that) can’t bring himself to bother about what he’s saying, as it has been throughout the entire class.

He sighs, slumping in his chair.

_Why are the last few minutes of class always the longest? Then again, class in general makes an hour seem like five. What was that meme again–_

The bell rings.

Students all around him scurry out of their seats and rush to the door, anxious to leave behind all the dates and names that will never come to use in their future. Johnny scans the room for exceptions – the relatively calm ones who are lazily transferring their books and stationery into their bags as if they have all the time in the world.

One such person is Nakamoto Yuta. Johnny remembers clearly how the Japanese had showed up sometime last year and made almost the entire student body of their university swoon every time he so much as passed by. Johnny is  _undoubtedly_ one of those people. Yuta is definitely his type – a lot shorter than Johnny himself, pretty, fierce, athletic, nice at times, and just the right amount of shy. Half of those traits disappear once you start getting to know him – Johnny would know – but that is another matter entirely.

Johnny slowly rises from his seat and, shouldering his bag, trudges over to Yuta’s. He briefly wonders if the conversation they’re about to have will end in the same way all other of this type do. Pushing this thought aside, he tries to think of yet another with innovative method of approaching the matter at hand.

“Hey,” he says, coming to a halt next to Yuta’s desk.

“No,” is the first thing Yuta says, without as much as looking up from his books. He packs the last of them and zips his bag closed, bringing the strap over his head and dropping it onto a shoulder before turning around briskly and making his way to the door. Johnny follows him out of the classroom quickly, huffing slightly.

“Yuta,” he says in disbelief once he’s caught up to him. “I didn’t even _say_ anything!”

“You don’t need to for me to figure out what it’s about, Youngho,” Yuta replies, taking the turn at the end of the corridor.

Johnny follows persistently, “Come on, Yuta. It’s been so long, when are you going to change your answer?”

“No time soon.”

“Some time after soon then?”

Yuta laughs softly at that, turning slightly to regard him with a grin which has his eyes crinkling up at the corner. Johnny smiles back easily, despite getting rejected for the thirteenth time (he’s been counting). Yuta just does that to people, he supposes.

“Sure,” Yuta says, still smiling.

They walk side-by-side in silence after that, and Johnny’s gaze falls, watching the way the two of them naturally fall into step. He smiles softly at the size difference between his and Yuta’s feet, and a bit more at the thought of how Yuta would probably turn him into minced meat if he says the same out loud.

As they step out of the university’s overly-large gates and onto the snow-covered streets, Johnny hears Yuta take in a sharp breath.

“It’s cold,” he states, wrapping an arm around himself in a half-hearted attempt at keeping himself warm.

“Maybe you wouldn’t have felt the cold if you’d agreed to go out with me,” Johnny replies. He’s aware of how absolutely ridiculous it sounds, but he hadn’t really been thinking when he’d said it. It’s one of those non-committal things you say in a futile attempt to keep the conversation going, so Johnny doesn’t understand why Yuta bursts into laughter the way he does.

“You sound like one of those Loona fans,” he says through laughs, and Johnny finds himself grinning at that.

“You’re a Loona fan,” he points out with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

Johnny snorts disbelievingly. “You’re insufferable.”

“That’s a bit rich coming from you, don’t you think?” Yuta says, but there’s no malice to it, if the grin playing on his lips is any indication.

“Whatever you say,” Johnny smiles, nudging Yuta slightly with his elbow.

The only sounds to be heard after that are those of the crunching of snow under their feet as they walk steadily along the streets and their soft breathing.

Johnny stares at the little puffs of air that fan out with each of his exhales in front of him, and when he tires of that, he opts to shift his attention to the presence next to him.

Yuta makes quite the sight with his flushed cheeks and red ears and his face half hidden by his scarf. His messy brown hair falls into his eyes, and the tip of his nose is slightly tinted with red too, as Johnny notices now.

Yuta is – for lack of a better word – beautiful. This is a fact that Johnny had established long, long ago. But, even as each day passes by after the other in a flash, Johnny finds himself unaccustomed to this _fact_ every time. It never fails to amaze him.

“Has ‘soon’ come yet?” he finds himself asking without even knowing it.

“Nope,” Yuta answers without hesitation. “Besides, I like Jaehyun.”

“No, you don’t.”

 “No, I don’t,” Yuta agrees. “Jaehyun likes me.”

“Half the university likes you,” Johnny says matter-of-factly, and Yuta chuckles.

“I suppose you’re right,” he says, smiling. “I don’t see why though,” he goes on, and Johnny’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Half of them don’t even know me for, well, _me._ They like me… superficially. They look at me as a pretty face. Is that enough to genuinely like someone? I’d understand if it was just a crush, I’ve had one or two of them myself, but really, asking someone out without knowing them is just messed up. What if their personality is shit? You’d be stuck at a dinner with someone who complains constantly about how bad the fish is.”

Johnny laughs loudly at that. This is one of the reasons he likes Yuta so much; he isn’t wavered in the slightest by looks, and instead judges a person by what’s painted in their hearts rather than on their faces. “What about me, then?”

Yuta casts a sidelong glance at him before answering, “You’re different. You’re my friend; you know me and what type of person I am. I assume you like me after taking all of that into account, so you’re valid.”

Johnny grins at that. “Good to know.”

They recede into a comfortable silence after that. Johnny stares at the sun slinking over the tall buildings as it nears sunset. It casts an almost heavenly glow over the acres and acres of glass, and cushioned by an array of coloured clouds, it makes quite the sight. For the first time in ages, Seoul actually looks beautiful.

Johnny nudges Yuta in the side, and hears him hum questioningly. He nudges him again, and this time Yuta looks up at him, and when he does, Johnny tilts his head towards the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, he makes out Yuta doing the same. He smiles when he hears Yuta gasp and when he looks back at him, Johnny resists the urge to do the same.

There’s a small, serene smile playing on Yuta’s lips, and that, along with how his entire form is bathed in gold, knocks the breath out of Johnny.

It leaves him wondering which sight is more beautiful.

 

When they reach Yuta’s apartment complex (Johnny realizes belatedly that that’s where they had been heading all this time), Yuta stops him with a hand on his arm before he turns around to head home himself.

“Be here at seven o’clock sharp tomorrow,” he says, and there’s the most dazzling smile on his face as he says it.

Johnny would’ve fallen face-first had it not been for Yuta’s hand grounding him, and since he can’t express his disbelief in that way, he opts for staring at Yuta with his mouth slightly open.

Yuta waves a hand in front of his face, laughing amusedly, “Earth to Youngho?”

Johnny snaps out of his trance-like state at that, and he manages, still disbelievingly, “You want me to go get the groceries for you or something?”

Yuta’s face softens at that. “No,” he says cheekily. “’Soon’ is here.”

Johnny finds himself unable to fight back a smile. “Right. Tomorrow at seven sharp, got it.”

“It’s a date,” Yuta grins, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “Don’t be late,” he adds warningly.

“That rhymed,” his companion points out, and Yuta rolls his eyes.

“A kid,” he says wryly. “I’m going out with a kid.”

“You bet you are,” Johnny says, slinging an arm around the shorter boy’s shoulder.

Yuta scrunches his nose up in distaste, but does not shrug him off. “Yeah, yeah. Now off you go, cowboy.”

Johnny’s afraid his jaw is going to break with how it seems as if it’s permanently locked in a smile. “Yeehaw.”

Yuta pushes at his arm with no real strength. Just then, the elevator dings and with a noise, the doors part. Yuta steps in quickly, and twirling round gracefully, he waves at Johnny, mouths one last _“don’t be late,”_ and then the doors close.

Johnny goes home with a slight pain in his jaw and an unreasonably giddy feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.

 

Seo Youngho is a man of his word.

Well, at most times.

Unfortunately, this is not one of those times.

Soon after waltzing into his apartment yesterday night, he had remembered something. That something just happened to the memory of his card getting declined at the convenience the other day. Subsequently, he realized what that meant. He was broke.

All the happiness he had previously been feeling was immediately replaced with sadness and anger (harboured towards himself, of course).

After about an hour of pacing his bedroom uselessly, Johnny had gone to sleep in an effort to rid himself of the headache he could feel as growing and also hoping that he’d somehow wake up his wallet bursting with cash.

Obviously, that does _not_ happen, but he does manage to keep his headache at bay, thankfully. Next morning, the pacing resumes but soon stops when Johnny realizes that he does not have the luxury of wearing a hole through the carpet since he has no money to compensate for the damages. He flops exhaustedly onto his couch and closes his eyes, hoping that when he opens them, he’ll somehow be gone from this world, because who, in their right mind, asks someone out when _broke?_

_I’ve been waiting for this opportunity forever and I’ve managed to screw everything up. Great.  Just great._

His phone buzzes insistently on the coffee table then, and he reaches for it with all the strength he can muster. His mood sours even more when he reads the messages he’s just received.

 **_Yuta-kun:_ ** _I hope you know you’re paying, babe_

 ** _Yuta-kun:_** _I’m really looking forward to tonight_

 **_Yuta-kun:_ ** _Until then… ;)_

Johnny tosses the phone aside without replying and throws an arm over his eyes, crying out in anguish. Never in his 21 years of living would he have imagined that Yuta would call him _babe_ one day, and never in his 21 years of living would he have imagined that this would be his reaction. Of course, never in his 21 years of living would he have imagined that he would manage of end up in a situation like this, so he deems it justifiable.

Johnny sighs, feeling utterly defeated. Suddenly, an idea pops up in his head, but he dismisses it almost immediately.

_That only happens in the movies._

He slowly turns his head to where his phone rests peacefully on the other side of the couch and stares at it for a moment.

_I mean, if it happens in the movies…_

He extends an arm hesitantly and reaches for his phone. On opening it, he stares at the texts from Yuta for a good while before musters up the courage to reply.

 **_Johnny Boy:_ ** _Of course_

 **_Johnny Boy:_ ** _Babe_

 

On Saturday evening, at 7 o’clock on the dot, the doorbell to Yuta’s apartment rings.

He rushes out of the bathroom with a last look at himself, and weaving his way through the several articles of clothing strewn across his bedroom floor (and a bit of the living room as well), he heads to the door. He checks if his earrings are on right in the small mirror in the hallway, and on assuring himself that they are, he continues his journey, but not before stealing a glance at the clock hanging above the TV.

_He really took me seriously, eh?_

He smiles amusedly to himself, before quickly schooling his expression and placing a hand on the doorknob. He allows himself a moment in which he gives himself a quick pep-talk.

 _Deep breaths, Yuta, deep breaths. You can do this; you’re Nakamoto Yuta! This totally isn’t your first date in almost a year, and_ –

The doorbell rings again.

Yuta takes a quick breath, and swings open the door.

Surely he wasn’t expecting to be greeted by _this_.

“Y-Youngho?” he starts unsurely, “What–”

“I’m sorry if I’m late!” he hears a muffled voice say good-naturedly. “It took a while arranging all of this.”

“I can imagine…” Yuta says, eyeing the enormous bouquet of flowers sceptically. It is undoubtedly _beautiful,_ but leaning just _slightly_ towards the larger side. “How– How do you plan to bring this in?”

“Oh?” Johnny’s face appears from behind the array of colours, and he eyes the doorframe for a good while. “I think I could just squeeze it in! You might need to step aside for a moment, though.”

Yuta does as he’s told wordlessly, and not a moment later, Johnny (and his bouquet) stumbles through the door, and Yuta doesn’t know whether to be thankful that the bouquet managed to get through in one piece or not.

“Hey!” Johnny says excitedly when he turns to face his date. “Do you like it?” he says next, brandishing the _forest_ in Yuta’s face.

Yuta stares at the multi-coloured flowers with mixed emotions. _Does_ he like it? He looks up hesitantly at Johnny’s hopeful expression and his lips stretch into what he hopes is a convincing smile. “It’s beautiful, although, I have to admit, it’s a bit… _big_ , don’t you think?”

“Oh! Is it?” Johnny scrutinises the bouquet, as if trying to deduce whether it really is as big as Yuta claims, before his features take on a sheepish edge. “Ah, sorry about that. I wasn’t sure how many to bring, and I read somewhere that the more you like someone, the more the number of flowers in the bouquet you gift them.”

“You made that up right now, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

Yuta shakes his head with a laugh and holds out a hand. “Come in and sit down for a bit while I get these in some water? Although I’m not sure we have a vase this big…”

Johnny rubs at his nape sheepishly before kicking the door closed and following Yuta inside. “’We’ reminds me, where’s Taeyong?”

“Oh?” Yuta calls back from the kitchen. His voice is accompanied by sounds of shuffling, and after staring at the couch and contemplating whether it is worthy of his presence or not, Johnny allows his curiosity to get the better of him and makes his way to the kitchen. “He’s out for a quick run to the store, I think. He left just a while ago, after helping me get ready for tonight. Does that tell you anything, Youngho?”

Johnny appears in the doorframe just then, raising an eyebrow quizzically at Yuta’s question. “No?” he answers, although it ends up sounding more like a question. “Is it supposed to?”

It all happens so fast that everything in front of him is reduced to a blur. Yuta, from being just a bit more than an arm’s length away from him, is, in a flash, right in front of him, looking up at him with a deadly, almost predatory glint in his eyes and a hand hovering above his chest, but not touching it in the least. “That means, Youngho, that I put a lot of effort and time into getting ready for tonight’s occasion. Taeyong did my makeup,” he gestures towards the face Johnny is sure was crafted by the Gods, “fixed my hair,” he runs a hand through his perfectly-styled hair, and Johnny watches, awestruck, as soft brown strands fall back in place “and picked out my outfit,” he steps back and twirls gracefully, before he’s back in his previous position. “He also helped me with running my bath, and… some _other_ things as well, but I’m not too sure you’d want the details.”

Yuta steps back by the slightest bit, gauging Johnny’s reaction. Sure enough, the poor boy looks as if he’s _flaming_ in jealousy, with his teeth gritted and fists clenched at his sides. The fact that Taeyong and Yuta had dated for a good while last year doesn’t help either, and Johnny, in his effort to keep his annoyance at bay, misses the change in Yuta’s expression – how it softens considerably, before a cheeky grin takes over.

“I was only joking,” he says, stepping closer again. “ _But,_ I do mean it when I say I went all out. My point is, Youngho,” and he steps impossibly closer, “get a good look, because you’re not getting this close again any time tonight, _babe._ ”

Johnny’s breath hitches and he isn’t sure whether to admire Yuta for his confidence or to curse him out for it. Nonetheless, he does as he’s told, and takes a good look for the first time since he stepped into Yuta’s (and unfortunately, Taeyong’s) apartment.

He starts from the top. Yuta’s hair looks as soft and pretty as ever, and Johnny has to refrain from reaching out and toying with the strands. His eyes come next, and Johnny notices the perfectly applied eyeliner coating Yuta’s endlessly large, twinkling eyes, and the slight red dusting his eyelids doesn’t quite go unnoticed either. Johnny’s eyes trace the curve of Yuta’s nose, quickly darting to his cheeks and drinking in the pinkish-red tint on them, which, had it not been for the lack of distance between the two of them, wouldn’t even have been visible. Then, his gaze falls upon Yuta’s lips and _goddamn it_ , he has to draw in a breath because the sight almost asphyxiates him. The glistening of Yuta’s lips makes them look even more delectable than they usually do, and Johnny quickly averts his gaze. He takes in Yuta’s outfit next and almost gasps. Yuta certainly wasn’t joking when he said he went all out, and the red dress shirt he’s wearing definitely punctuates that point. A quarter of it is lace, and it showcases Yuta’s collarbones _perfectly._ His black dress pants are no joke either, and Johnny almost gulps when he realizes why Yuta looks slightly taller today. It’s not because of insoles, no, his shoes, in all their glittery glory, have actual _heels_ on them, and although not blatantly prominent, Johnny notices them alright. And, to top it all off, the black choker wrapping itself snugly around Yuta’s neck compliments his ensemble and Johnny would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel hot despite the cold atmosphere of the apartment.

His gaze travels back up to meet Yuta’s, and he’s looking at him with an arched eyebrow, as if saying, _well?_

Johnny has never been one gifted with a way with words, so he isn’t surprised when he says the most anti-climactic thing he could say in this situation.

“Aren’t you going to feel cold?”

Yuta doesn’t look taken aback for even a moment, because he _knows_ that he looks absolutely gorgeous, and he knows Johnny thinks so too – he doesn’t need reassurance. Instead, he smirks; the undeniable effect he has on the older definitely makes for one hell of a power trip. “Don’t worry,” he smiles saccharinely, “I have a coat. And besides, I have you to keep me warm, don’t I?”

With that, he slips away and resumes his previous task, leaving his date breathless and slack-jawed.

Johnny can only stare after him, watching him move about the kitchen swiftly, until he appears in front of him again, holding out the vase of flowers. “Go keep these on the coffee table? I’ll just grab my coat and we can head out.”

Johnny does as he’s told wordlessly, leaving the kitchen and walking towards the coffee table as if in a trance. He misses how Yuta trails behind him with his lips tugged into an amused smile, before heading the other way and slipping into his bedroom.

Once sure that his friend his out of both eye and earshot, Johnny flops onto the couch with a groan, dropping his face into his hands. “He’s going to be the death of me.”

Yuta emerges from the bedroom less than a minute later, and Johnny rushes to straighten up and make himself look presentable.

“Let’s go?” he hears from his left, and on spinning around, finds himself short of breath once again. It takes him a moment to decide whether Yuta’s coat is a bane or boon, with the way it falls to just above his knees, and how Yuta has it tied tightly around his waist.

Johnny licks his lips. “Let’s go.”

And throughout the elevator ride down to the lobby, the short walk to Johnny’s car, and even throughout the car ride to their destination, Johnny can think only one thing.

  _Thank the Gods above for Lee Taeyong._

 

“ _Wow_ ,” is the first thing Yuta says when a waiter takes their coats and leads them to their reserved table. He looks around, amazed, before his gaze wanders back to Johnny. “Youngho, this place is _beautiful_. You have great choice.”

“I thought we had already established that,” Johnny replies, gesturing vaguely towards Yuta.

Yuta rolls his eyes at the remark, but he does have the decency to blush slightly, and the contrast has Johnny snickering. “You’re cute,” he decides.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Yuta murmurs, busying himself with looking around again.

Johnny opens his mouth to share a fact from the multitude of interesting (albeit slightly disturbing) ones he has stored at the back of his mind, when Yuta raises a hand to silence him.

“I change my mind, _don’t_ tell me something I don’t know. I’d like to save my appetite, thanks,” he comments dryly.

Johnny only smiles before flagging down a waiter and ordering a drink whose name Yuta has difficulty pronouncing.

“You seem experienced,” Yuta points out, staring at the waiter’s retreating figure. “What have you been doing behind my back?”

“Just a bit of research, nothing else,” Johnny grins, seemingly satisfied with himself. At Yuta’s surprised expression, he goes on, in a softer tone of voice, “I’ve been waiting for this day for _ages_ , Yuta. Do you really think I’d take it for granted?”

The waiter returns before Yuta can reply, armed with two menus and an exquisitely designed bottle. He gives each of them a menu, before he pours some of whatever is in the bottle into Johnny’s flute and looks at him expectantly. Johnny lifts the glass and takes a measured sip, and Yuta can’t help but think how he blends perfectly into the atmosphere – the fancy suits and frilly dresses, the perfect postures and calculated movements. He snaps out of his reverie when Johnny nods at the waiter, who proceeds to pour some more into his flute and then into Yuta’s. He nods politely at the two of them, before turning around and weaving his way skilfully through the numerous tables and disappearing from sight.

“What just happened?” Yuta asks after a moment’s silence, and Johnny looks at him from behind his flute.

“What?” he asks, confused, prompting Yuta to explain.

“Waiters normally ask the male to taste the alcohol or whatever,” he says, and Johnny nods, still not seeing the problem. Realization flashes in his eyes, and he almost chokes on the expensive beverage.

“Oh my _god,_ ” he says once he’s recovered, and it’s clear he’s trying his best not to burst out laughing, because that type of behaviour just doesn’t do in places like this. “He thought you were a _girl,_ ” he says in between hushed laughs, gripping the tablecloth in an effort to control his hysteria.

Yuta flushes red, rushing to defend himself, “No, he didn’t! He just–”

“He just _what?”_ Johnny teases, and Yuta grumbles. “I don’t blame him, y’know. You do look a little girly.”

“I do _not_!” Yuta protests hotly. He downs his wine in an effort to drown out his embarrassment, and Johnny watches, amused, as he scrunches his nose up in repulsion.

“What the _hell_ is this – this _trash_?!” the Japanese sputters, swallowing with much difficulty.

“Gewürztraminer,” Johnny answers easily, and Yuta looks at him with a mix of disbelief and incredulity.

“What does that even mean?!” he demands, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Johnny sniggers, and Yuta regards him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape, before he regains his composure and grumbles moodily.

“Some research you’ve done,” he comments haughtily, taking cautious sips of his water.

Johnny beams proudly at him, flagging down the same waiter once again. He places both their orders, since Yuta is far too unacquainted with the menu and slightly wary of it too, and the waiter diligently notes the name of each complicated dish.

“How was the wine, ma’am?” the man, who looked not much older than thirty, turns towards Yuta after having finished taking their order, and Yuta’s mood only sours further.

“It’s _sir,_ ” he says stiffly, ignoring Johnny losing his sanity behind the perplexed waiter. “And it was fine, thank you. Just _peachy._ ”

Yuta stares, annoyed, at the retreating figure until he can’t anymore before clicking his tongue softly and averting his gaze elsewhere. It falls on Johnny, ultimately, when he hears a stifled chuckle, and he makes sure to channel all the annoyance he feels into his glare.

“ _What?_ ” he snaps moodily, and Johnny only raises his hands in defeat.

Yuta sighs, slumping slightly in his chair. “You better make the rest of the night worth it, or I swear, Seo Youngho, I’ll make sure this is your last.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

The food, contrary to Yuta’s belief, turns out to be absolutely scrumptious.

“That–” he says after the last bite of his dish (the name of which he still cannot pronounce), “–was amazing.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Johnny smiles, finishing up with his own food.

“You should be,” Yuta grins. “I’m a very picky person. Only Taeyong knows what I like or don’t like.”

Johnny groans. “Would you mind not bringing up your ex-boyfriend who you still live with for some reason during our _date_? Just when I was having such a good time, too.”

Yuta’s expression softens, and he reaches across the table for Johnny’s hand. “You’re jealous?” he asks softly. “Don’t be. We’re only friends. But I’m sorry, I won’t bring him up anymore, alright?”

Johnny nods, reassured. He then shifts his focus to the feeling of Yuta’s hand in his. It’s small, soft and warm, and it fits perfectly in his. Johnny finds himself not wanting to let go.

“Wow, Youngho,” Yuta starts in a hushed voice, jolting him out of his fantasy of gluing Yuta’s hand to his. “I didn’t know you were this well-off…”

Johnny stiffens slightly at that, and Yuta, noticing the shift in demeanour, looks back at him. “Something wrong?”

Johnny, albeit reluctantly, pulls his hand away, watching as Yuta does the same. He takes a deep breath and prepares himself for the conversation about to come.

“Yeah, about that…” he starts hesitantly, quickly looking up at Yuta, who’s looking at him curiously, and then back at his empty plate. “I – uh…”

“Hey,” Yuta probes softly, and despite his nervousness, Johnny finds comfort in Yuta’s melodic voice, “what is it? You can tell me.”

Johnny takes a deep breath and nods, staring right into the beautiful eyes that are focused solely on him. “Well, for starters, I am _not_ well-off. Like, at all. Quite the contrary, actually.”

“Oh my god,” Yuta gasps, and Johnny winces, expecting the absolute worst to ruin his amazing night. “Don’t tell me you worked odd jobs just to save up for this? Oh my god, I should have accepted sooner – no, wait, maybe that wouldn’t have helped, but – Youngho, if you’d have only _told_ me! Gosh, I’m such a terrible person–”

Yuta’s rambling is interrupted by a finger suddenly on his lips and he looks up at his companion in surprise. Johnny’s eyes twinkle with mirth, and an amused smile graces his lips. He pulls his hand away when Yuta pipes down, and chuckling, says, “As romantic as that sounds, it’s not quite the case. Yuta,” and his voice takes on a much more serious edge, “before you get mad at me, I need you to know that this is an opportunity I have been waiting for since you first showed up last year. It may be just another date to you, but that is far from what I see this as. I like you a lot, Yuta, and I need you to know that.”

Johnny stops when he feels sudden warmth enveloping his hand, and he looks down at it to see it covered with Yuta’s. Johnny stares at his hand for a moment, taking in Yuta’s pretty fingers and relishing in the contact. He then looks up to meet eyes filled with concern, and his heart almost melts at the sight.

“Youngho, as sweet as all of that is, where is all of this coming from? And why would I get mad? Youngho, I don’t think you understand how amazing of a person you are, and I can’t thank you enough for tonight. I don’t even know why you like me so much, honestly, I’m kind of a brat, so if anyone should be honoured or whatever, it should be me–”

_“I’m broke!”_

For a moment, if feels as if the world has stopped spinning. It’s as if everyone in the restaurant has halted their activities and gone quiet and are focusing on their table, and _oh_ , that’s because everyone _is_ focusing on them and it’s all so overwhelming that Johnny forgets how to breathe for a moment.

He’s afraid to look at Yuta. He’s afraid to look at anyone, for that matter, but it is no secret that everyone is looking at him. He feels as if he has embarrassed the boy in front of him, as if he has embarrassed himself. He can’t help but beat himself up over ruining the chance he has been waiting for for ages, and he thinks it’s cruel, how the universe always has to turn against him at the worst possible moments.

 _What if Yuta doesn’t like me anymore? What if he doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore? What if_ –

But he doesn’t have the time to come up with more innovative _what ifs_ , because suddenly the sound of a chair scraping against the floor resonates in his ears and suddenly, there’s a hand tugging his along and he slips out of his chair on instinct. “What–”

“A little short on time right now, Seo! Flee now, talk later!”

Johnny doesn’t fully process what’s happening until they’re at the door, with the very confused doorman, unaware of the events of just a few minutes ago, handing them their coats and holding the door open for them and Yuta shouting, at no one in particular, as they practically jump through the door, _“Thanks for the wine, it was disgusting!”_

The last thing they hear from behind them is a myriad of receding shouts and screams of, _“Don’t let them through the door!”_ and _“Go after them!”_ that soon fade into the distance until only their erratic breathing and the sound of footsteps hitting the pavement at a frenetic pace are heard in the quiet night.

 

“Do you think we’ve lost them?”

“Yeah, I think we managed to.”

“Oh, thank God. I think I would have died if we’d run even a minute longer.”

Johnny laughs and nods his head in agreement, looking away from the streets and instead focusing on Yuta.

He’s panting, much like Johnny himself, but maybe even a little more, and Johnny pities him for not being gifted with abnormally long legs. His hair is dishevelled, and his clothes are a little rumpled in places as well, but his eyes are what catch Johnny’s attention. They’re twinkling, with mirth, with excitement, and it knocks the breath out of Johnny (there was already little to begin with).

“So,” he huffs, still trying to calm himself down. “Was ‘soon’ worth it?”

And when Yuta looks at him, eyes glinting with mischief and pearly whites on full display, Johnny falls in love a little more.

“Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated! (it's one in the morning what am i doing with life)


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